


A Lost Charioteer Found

by ForeverAlone5



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Multi, i'm sorry LoLo, it's literally just everyone and Logan, it's your birthday and I just hurt you, self-deprecation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-04
Updated: 2018-11-04
Packaged: 2019-08-17 08:50:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,260
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16513136
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ForeverAlone5/pseuds/ForeverAlone5
Summary: It’s hard being Logic when you’re always feeling so illogical. Logan is lost and doesn’t know if he wants to be found or disappear.





	A Lost Charioteer Found

The cold air bit into Logan’s cheeks, a small flush of his face brightening up his face. The dark night was lit up with dim streetlights.

The stars were exceptionally bright tonight, a soft and eerie mood that sobered Logan up. Ursa Minor could be clearly seen as he walked, staring up with a tranquility that made him shiver.

He rubbed at his uncovered arm, the sleeve of his Christmas sweater pushed up to his shoulder. He had left his tie on the floor of his bedroom in his hasty decision to leave the mindscape - a name that Roman had created and unfortunately stayed as the popular name.

He shivered, a cold wind harshly biting at his skin. Shaking his head, he continued walking. The street lights flickered in and out, the yellow light giving an ominous glow.

The video had been a catastrophe, in his eyes, but the others were able to aid Thomas with his own personal dilemma - without him.

He knew that his ~~feelings~~ confrontations with the others were a result of his own doing. His bouts of ~~anger~~ discourse and disagreements with the others were detrimental to Thomas’ health.

He had been ~~useless~~ unnecessary to this video’s conclusion, had been the instigator. The world was vast, and he was an infinitesimal part of it, a piece of Thomas that was all too subjective in his own reasoning.

Logan knew that the mysteries of the world could never be found, much as he wanted to. He was not an astronomical piece in any sense of the word.

Human logic was subjective at best, heavily based on cultural norms and personal biases. His strive for true objectivity was a fruitless endeavor.

He shook his head away from those thoughts, hurrying his pace slightly. Arms wrapped around his chest, a dull thud echoing behind his ribs. He shuddered, his figurative heart was an anomaly, something that didn’t need to be there.

It ached when it shouldn’t have mattered. He was Logic, the brain. He didn’t _need_ to have a heart in this form, he was imaginary, a figure created to be a platform of entertainment.

His stomach dropped, the feeling of lead becoming more prevalent to him. He turned to the right, walking deeper into the night.

Roman had made tremendous progress from the first time he had met him to now, acknowledging and apologizing for some of his distasteful actions. He had grown into his persona of a prince that he so stubbornly admitted he was.

Patton had admitted that there were moments of sadness that he experienced, which was an enormous step from their first breakup to now. His progress toward admitting his feelings had improved to leaning on the others ~~not him, never him~~ for help.

Virgil was - and he couldn’t believe that he was ~~so scared~~ blind to the fact to see the potential of ally-ship he made, one of the easier to handle facets of Thomas, dealing in matters of logic, as flawed as they may be.

He sighed, a heavy cloud of thoughts forming in the forefront of his mind. He stopped, casting his eyes upward, watching the stars twinkle, so hot that they were freezing, millions of miles apart, but still as bright as they could make it.

And he stood there, alone in the night, shrouded in the dark. He tightened the scarf around his neck, fiddling with the tassels of it.

He knew, fundamentally, how without even one facet that Thomas could not function to the extent that he could. He should count his blessings, Patton cared for him, illogically, feeding him even though they didn’t need the sustenance.

Roman was the one capable enough to confront issues with, haggling and discussing ways to better help Thomas.

Virgil enjoyed his company enough to spend time with him when he did puzzles or read his preferred books.

And therein laid the problem, preferences. He had preferences, opinions, biases, illogical wants. He felt pride when he successfully solved certain puzzles, happiness when learning new facts, anger when no one listened to him.

Yet he suppressed them, rarely reacting to them, taking them as a grain of salt. He knew that that was wrong, reading enough about damages that could be caused by that.

He _chose_ to do that, chose to be someone who was meant to not react, someone unfeeling. He was meant to be logical and not rely on any emotions, just cold, hard facts.

Not that there was anything wrong with emotional intelligence, he could concede to the fact that Patton was intelligent enough in that matter, proof of that in the previous video.

Except he was _logic_ , not emotions, not creativity, not anxiety, just pure and simple logic.

But… the anger, the pride, the feelings would explode out of him without his wanting to. It would never work out, “no one takes me seriously” a pathetic attempt at attention, which he didn’t need in the first place.

He was figuratively alone in the world. And if he couldn’t be logic, then what use was he? Logan shook his head again, harder this time, the unwanted thoughts still crowded his mind.

His head sank down, feet scuffling at the cement. His arms snaked back around himself, the heat losing its emphasis as the wind picked up its magnitude.

“ _Logan_!” His head shot up, looking back to see a distant figure running after him. He stayed put, the fight leaving him.

“What are you doing out here in the cold, Logan?” Roman’s voice carried across the field. His boots crunched against the gravel of the cement.

“It is just a memory of Thomas’ that we are in,” he said distantly, the words leaving his mouth flat as ever. “Any coldness that we feel is nonexistent.”

“Still,” Roman said, and a sad tinge was in his voice, “we missed you tonight. Pat wanted to have our family movie night.”

That scarred against his metaphorical heart. “What of it?”

“What do you mean?” Roman’s voice held genuine confusion, and Logan turned to face him, face impassive. “Patton just wanted to have our fami-”

“That is no issue to take up with me.”

“Wh-?” Roman asked, his incredulous expression. “Why wouldn’t that be an issue? You’re a part of the fam, fam.”

“Please,” Logan dismissed, turning away. A flash of light passed by them, a shooting star zooming past. “I am in no means a ‘part of the fahm’.”

Roman shook his head, “Of course you are. You’re an important part of Thomas-”

“How kind of you to admit, Roman,” Logan said with a small sneer. “However, I know my limitations, my boundaries, I shall not pretend to admit that the three of you are not as welcoming with me as you are each other.”

“What are you talking about, Confusix Cube?”

“Never mind, Roman, the whole thing was an… unfortunate circumstance that you have no need in participating in,” he started to walk away, and when there was no response from Roman, he assumed that he had left as well.

“Now what’s this I hear about a series of unfortunate events?” Patton’s bubbly voice rang in his ears, giving him a small headache behind his eyes. Patton fell into step next to him.

“Nothing that needs your concern, Patton,” Logan dismissed him, walking faster.

Patton frowned, “Well, it doesn’t sound like you don’t need me. You sound a little -”

“A little _what_ , Patton?” Logan’s voice was sharp as he stopped in his tracks, staring at Patton with an indecipherable look.

His lip trembled, and his fists clenched tightly at his sides. Patton’s frown deepened, and he reached out toward him, but Logan took a considerable step back.

“Well, kiddo, I was going to say a little lost. Do you need a moral compass?”

Logan’s jaw clenched, and he swiftly turned on his heel, stomping away. He shoved his hands into his pockets, shivering against the cold that had somehow gotten sharper in the past few minutes. He trekked across the grass, the rustling of the plants in the wind, soothing.

“‘Sup nerd,” Virgil’s raspy voice breathed into his ear. He yelped, holding his hand over his pounding chest. He breathed in deeply to even his heartbeat, glaring half-heartedly at the smirking facet.

“ _Yes_? What is it, Virgil?” Logan couldn’t help the annoyance that seeped into his voice, foot tapping impatiently on the grass.

Virgil’s head was tilted up, his bangs hanging on the side of his head. His eyes were closed, and he took a deep breath as he spoke, a gravelly tone rumbling in his chest.

“Do you know of the constellation Auriga?”

“Of course,” Logan frowned, “One of the 88 modern constellations, it was among the 48 constellations listed by the 2nd-century astronomer Ptolemy. It is located north of the celestial equator, its name is the Latin word for ‘the charioteer’, associating it with various mythological beings, including Erichthonius and Myrtilus: two very notable charioteers in mythology. Its brightest star, Capella, is a multiple star system and amongst one of the brightest stars in the night sky.”

Virgil smirked, “Accurate isn’t it?”

“Pardon?”

“A constellation of a chariot, an invention that relied heavily on ingenuity and logic and intelligence that revolutionized the history of the world.”

“I- I appreciate the allegory, Virgil,” Logan fixed his glasses in a nervous tic, “but what does this have to do with-?”

Virgil shrugged, smirking slightly, “Why does it have to do anything? Just a comment and observation.”

“Yes, well…” Logan trailed off, noticing how Capella seemed to shine brighter after Virgil’s words. “It matters not. If you are here to persuade me to come to the commons, then I shall have to decline.”

He shrugged again, sitting down on a magically appearing blanket, purple plaid in colour. Virgil patted a spot next to him, and Logan hesitated before settling down stiffly.

“Constellations and stars were always a few things that comforted me,” Virgil said softly, eyes fixated up on the bright night sky.

“They always felt like an old friend, shining their light onto me no matter the horrors I subjected to all of you.”

“Virgil, you did not-”

“But then all of you found your way into my life, my own three north stars, guiding me back into the light.”

“Virgil, what does this have to do-?”

“You know, Logan, the ancients always relied on the stars to help the guide their way back home. Like I said you’re lost, and it’s okay. Look up, ask for help, and you can still guide your own way back home. You don’t need to chariot yourself.”

Logan was silent, stewing in his own thoughts. Virgil let the silence lie for awhile before he stood up quietly, kissed the top of Logan’s head and left just as quiet as he came.

He stayed frozen on the ground, the bright stars shining even more than before.

“Logan, honey,” Patton’s sweet voice curled around Logan like a warm blanket.

“Did you want something, Patton?” Logan asked, voice low.

He heard as Patton sighed deeply, and startled as a blanket wrapped around his shoulders. Patton murmured something against his shoulder, the lingering smell of pastries getting stronger.

“You are an incredibly intelligent and difficult man, Logan Sanders. And I love that about you.”

Logan stiffened even more, and Patton sighed, kissing the skin of his neck before walking away with a hum of contentment and sadness.

His heart rattled against his chest, stuttering an offbeat tempo. He wrapped the blanket tighter around himself, willing the tears that were threatening to spill away.

“So you wanna disappear?” Roman mused quietly.

Logan buried himself into the blanket, hiding his face from view.

Roman sighed, pulling Logan into his side. He gently maneuvered a pliant Logan so that his head leant on Roman’s shoulder and his waist was wrapped with Roman’s arm.

The quiet night was overwhelming, and Logan shivered against it, pulling the blanket even tighter. Roman kissed his forehead gently.

“Even when the dark comes crashing through,” Virgil’s rumbling singing voice echoed throughout the night.

“When you need a friend to carry you,” Patton’s soft vibrato was low and soothing.

“And when you’re broken on the ground,” Roman sang huskily, squeezing him tight.

“You will be found,” the three voices harmonized together. Patton and Virgil sat on either side of Logan, resting a hand on one part of his body in comfort.

“So let the sun come streaming in,” the sun’s rays peaked through as the other three warped the memory to allow for a sunrise.

“‘Cause you’ll reach up and you’ll rise again,” Virgil nudged his shoulder in solidarity, and Logan offered him a small, wobbly smile.

“Lift your head and look around,” Patton smiled encouragingly at Logan, an arm wrapping around his shoulders.

“You will be found,” Roman sang sweetly.

“You will be found,” Virgil echoed.

“You will be found,” Patton hummed.

“You will be found,” Logan murmured finally, soaking in the others’ warmth.

The three broke out into wide smiles, smothering him in tight hugs.

“Happy birthday Logan,” Patton murmured into his hair with the other two echoing similar statements.

“Thank you,” he whispered gratefully, wrapping his arms tighter around the other three.

The sunrise was coming together peacefully, the pinks and oranges of the sky melding together with the clouds and creating a myriad of colours.

He may have wanted to disappear, riding his chariot away, but Logan knew that with the other three he would be found.

He looked up at the sunrise and smiled.

**Author's Note:**

> Cross-posted on Tumblr! Thank you for reading! Inspired by @menacefh on tumblr! It's the smort boi's birthday, and I am not sorry for what I wrote. Leave a comment below on what you liked or disliked!  
> With love,  
> Forever.


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